


Broken Memories

by LeesaPerrie



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-30
Updated: 2008-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-17 17:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11856447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeesaPerrie/pseuds/LeesaPerrie
Summary: Missing scene for Broken Ties, Season 5. Rodney remembers, and worries about his teammate...





	Broken Memories

**Broken Memories  
By Leesa Perrie**

Enzyme withdrawal was bad, worse it would seem when associated with the so-called 'gift of life' and not with Ford's refined drug, though that had been bad enough. Of course, Ronon had far more of it running through his system than Rodney had ever had, which was a scary thought. He knew, though, that the physical pain was not the worst of this. No, the pain of having been broken by a Wraith, of having betrayed his friends - that would be worse for someone as proud and strong as Ronon.

That, and the loss of a good friend. Someone who had betrayed him for the 'gift' and yet, at the end, had stayed behind so that they could go free, and had taken out the Wraith lab in a final act of defiance. 

He didn't know what it took to make someone do that.

Only he did, really, if he let himself think about it, but he didn't let himself think about it, fearing any one of his team, his friends, could go out like that one day. Knowing that in another timeline two of them had.

He didn't want to be here, watching from the observation room, watching as Ronon thrashed and screamed and raged...and worse, begged for death.

Had he done that? Memories that were not as fuzzy as he'd like told him that he had. 

In a way, he was glad that his team had not been there to see him go through withdrawal. Though it would have been...comforting, perhaps, if they had been there. At least towards the end.

Of course, then there wouldn't have been any need for him to take the overdose in the first place, if his team had been there, safe on Atlantis and not lost on a hiveship somewhere.

He wasn't sure he could do this. He wasn't sure Ronon would want them to see him like this, wasn't sure that their presence helped, wasn't sure he could handle the memories this stirred up.

Wasn't sure he was strong enough to stay and watch his teammate suffer. 

He hoped that Ronon was strong enough to get through this and then chastised himself for doubting. This was Ronon, of course he was strong enough. After all, if he himself had been strong enough to survive, though granted with a lesser though still far too high level of enzyme in his blood, then Ronon would definitely make it, being so much stronger than himself.

He had to make it.

Friendship was hard. That was something he knew all too well, and it still amazed him even now that he had friends. And scared him when they were in danger and there was little, or worse, nothing he could do. No miracle fixes. 

Losing people, losing friends...it was still his worse nightmare. Well, maybe not literally, those damned whale nightmares were pretty bad, but it was his worst fear. The pain it caused...

He couldn't fix this. Couldn't produce a device that would save his friend this pain, this humiliation, and he hated that, when he couldn't fix the problem, any problem. Hated it most when it meant a friend was suffering.

Who would have thought that Ronon would become a friend? Not a close friend, not like he was with Carson, or even John, but a good friend nonetheless. Someone he didn't want to lose, like they had lost Elizabeth... 

He forced his thoughts away from her; he still wasn't ready to deal with it, not properly, and certainly not now, watching Ronon as he suffered.

Part of him wanted to flee...but he stayed, because if the situation was reversed, Ronon would stay, would be there for him. It's what teammates did. 

It's what friends did.

They watched your back when they could, and they didn't leave you to fight alone.

\-----------

He dreamed that night; memories of his own withdrawal, the terrible dread when Ronon turned on them, the fear of not getting him back, not being able to save him, the fear of losing another friend...his dreams were confused, all mixed up, and full of fear and betrayal and fear and hopelessness and fear and Wraith and fear and pain and...

And then a whale had eaten Atlantis while he watched from a boat, and then turned and come after him...

Waking with a start, his heart pounding, he knew there was no point in trying to get back to sleep now.

The only reason he had managed to get any sleep at all was because he was so exhausted from the night before when he hadn't slept, trying futilely to find a way to save Ronon, and because he had been assured by Sheppard and Teyla that they would take turns watching over their teammate and would call him when it was his turn to do so.

He took his time getting dressed before heading to the mess hall, and coffee. It didn't surprise him to see Sheppard sitting there. He knew Teyla would be with Ronon by now, and the chances of Sheppard getting any sleep this night...slim to nonexistent. 

"Thought you were sleeping," Sheppard commented as Rodney took a seat opposite him with a steaming mug of coffee in hand. 

"How's Ronon?" he asked, avoiding the sleep question.

"Not good," John said with a grimace. "But he's strong. He'll get through it."

"He'd better. I'm not having gone through all this just for him to wimp out on us."

"I'll be sure to tell him that. I'm sure he'll like being called a wimp," Sheppard said with a grin. 

"I didn't call him a wimp...that's not what I said, what I meant..." he trailed off, seeing the smirk on Sheppard's face and huffed in annoyance. Damn flyboy was teasing him. Again. "Oh, very funny."

Sheppard merely shook his head, before turning his attention back to his plate of...double chocolate chip cookies.

"Huh. Where'd you get them, and why haven't I got some?"

"They're from my own personal stash...and they're from _my_ own personal stash."

"Teammates should share..."

"Right," John drawled. "So, didn't Jeannie send you some Coffee Crisps recently..."

"How did you know that..."

"I didn't, but I know she sends you stuff now and then, and she knows how much you love Coffee Crisps."

He frowned, realising he'd stupidly fallen into Sheppard's trap. He must be more tired than he'd thought. "So, what is this, a barter society?"

"You know it is."

"Fine," he said grumpily. "Give me some cookies and you can have a Coffee Crisp bar later."

"Nah, s'okay," Sheppard said, pushing a couple of cookies over to him on a spare serviette.

"Huh, so what was that all about?"

"Annoying you."

"Right, of course."

Silence fell for a few moments before John shifted awkwardly, getting that look on his face; the look that meant he was thinking of talking about something he wasn't comfortable with. Like emotions, or something equally as appalling.

Great.

"Was it like that for you...you know, the enzyme..."

"I don't really remember..."

"Yeah, okay."

He closed his eyes, sighing deeply. He hated these conversations, particularly when it was Sheppard; they both sucked at this and they both knew it, preferring to avoid them much of the time. "Okay, I do remember...some bits. And yeah, I think it was. Maybe not quite that bad, but pretty close."

"You got through it, though. Without us."

"Yeah, well, Carson was there..." he paused for a moment, considering how much to say, or to not say. "I seem to remember accusing him of trying to kill me, more than once. And begging for him to kill me. But...not much else, not really."

Sheppard nodded, accepting the last bit for the lie that it was, for which he was grateful. He knew he could never lie to Sheppard, or to any his team for that matter, without them knowing it. It was highly frustrating at times.

"You should talk to Ronon, when he's better. Shared experiences and all that..."

"Maybe," he hedged, not sure that Ronon would want to talk about it with anyone, least of all him. Not sure he could handle it if he did.

"Yeah, maybe."

They were interrupted by the arrival of the kitchen staff, and as they started to prepare for the early morning rush, Sheppard gave an excuse and left.

Finishing the cookies, Rodney grabbed another mug of coffee and was about to head down to the isolation room when a stray thought had him asking one of the staff for a muffin, ignoring the slightly irritated sigh it produced.

Teyla would be hungry, after all.

\-----------

If there was one thing, one of many, many things, that Rodney was good at, it was talking. Only this time, he wasn't really sure what to say.

So in the end, he started rambling about stupid stuff, like the piano lessons he'd had as a child. How he ended up on that topic he really didn't know, but it wasn't like Ronon was awake...

Except that he was.

"Ronon... Hey, uh, how do you feel?"

"Like hitting someone."

Right, well, that could just be Ronon being Ronon, or it could be...something bad. "Anyone in particular?"

Did he detect a small hint of humour in Ronon's eyes, or was he imaging it? It was often hard to tell where his teammate was concerned. 

"You, if you don't loosen these straps and get me something to eat." Oh, yeah, definitely humour, he thought as a smile crossed his face. "That is a good sign, that's a good sign," he said, heading towards the door with a quiet, "Okay," followed once outside with a shout to anyone near by, "He's back, he's back ..."

Jennifer was there within moments, banning him from the room as she and her staff conducted some tests.

He radioed Sheppard and Teyla as he paced outside the room, his body thrumming with a mix of barely contained excitement and anxiety. Would Ronon be okay? He had sounded okay. Like his old self. Surely that was a good sign?

And then Teyla was there, with Torren in her arms. Then Sheppard as well, and all they could do was wait for the official verdict on their friend.

Which, when it came, was good.

He couldn't help smiling broadly. Ronon had made it through withdrawal.

Of course, he'd never doubted for a moment that he would.

The End


End file.
